


A Taste of Treachery

by kuchi



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Post-Canon, can be read as crush-y or on the gen side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24798499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuchi/pseuds/kuchi
Summary: Aang is sure spicy ice cream could be added to the list of Fire Nation atrocities.
Relationships: Aang/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 216
Collections: Eat Drink and Make Merry 2020





	A Taste of Treachery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [softintelligence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softintelligence/gifts).



> hope you like it! 
> 
> thanks to jaystrifes for beta-ing!

"Avatar Aang," Zuko calls, projecting his voice across the hall in that smooth, stately manner that Aang still hasn't gotten used to. They're coming up to the point where he's known Zuko as the Fire Lord longer than he's known him as the Fire Nation's banished prince, but there are some things his brain will never accept. Seeing Zuko as something so remote as a leader of another land, rather than a friend, a firebending master, or even an irritating once-enemy is one of them. "Over here, I want to show you something."

Aang feels a smile pull at the corners of his mouth at the nickname. It can't exactly be a _nickname_ when it's his formal title, but the way Zuko brandishes it at these events in that near-perfected court confidence – as if to say, yes, my close personal friend the Avatar, what's so strange about that, minister? – strikes him as casual and even playful. Is it possible that Aang has rubbed off on him after all this time? It's an agreeable thought.

Somewhat reluctantly, Aang puts down his bowl of tamarind soup and manoeuvres his way through the sharp-dressed crowd and the long rows of tables giving off enticing smells. Most of the guests had swarmed towards the platters of chilli eel prawns and fire-flake coated fried chicken the moment the food had been served, leaving Aang to the meagre but delicious selection of vegetarian goods. He finds Zuko standing at the edge of a small, round table bearing a selection of desserts. Aang spots a carefully arranged batch of bite-sized coconut cakes next to tall golden-handled pitchers of tea and glistening plates of sliced jackfruit. The Fire Nation's summer solstice celebrations are, first and foremost, festivals of food.

Zuko thrusts a bowl into Aang's hands the moment he arrives – or as close to a thrust he can get while maintaining proper etiquette in a hall full of Fire Nation nobles. He glances around the room before grimacing at Aang apologetically. "Sorry there isn't much you can eat here – but have you tried our regional ice cream yet?"

Aang raises an eyebrow, leaning over the bowl of creamy orange-tinted ice cream. He hasn't, as a matter of fact. He's had ice cream in all parts of the world. The monks had a peach sorbet that they would all get together to make on the weekends (he'd asked Gyatso about the lavish treat – who had winked at him about the importance of _some_ material pleasures). There was the crunchy delicacy of the South, fresh snow itself with rippling streaks of berry red – Katara always made sure that whoever was making it held off on the seal fat, just for one batch. Then there was the plethora of sundaes and cakes and concoctions in the tiny dessert shops all over the streets of Ba Sing Se, the careful exploration of which was one activity that he and Toph fully saw eye to eye on.

Yeah, Aang's not going to say no to some ice cream.

He takes the spoon Zuko offers him. Zuko, who normally seems resigned to looking uncomfortably stoic at these kinds of events, actually smiles in return. Aang tries not to dwell on how much more at ease he instantly looks – for Aang, out of this entire hall of fancy people – and enthusiastically shoves a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

"My mother used to let us have this after firebending practice when we were younger," Zuko says in a casual tone, watching him intently. The close attention makes Aang feel a little hot in ways that he doesn't want to deal with right now, so he gulps down another mouthful of the ice cream to distract himself with its cool sensation. Zuko continues, "Azula always said she didn't need to be treated and babied just for going to class, but I liked it."

The ice cream is cold on Aang's tongue, the smooth texture melting away exquisitely. It cools his sweltering head - he's not exactly used to tropical Fire Nation summers.

He eagerly takes another spoonful. Zuko's eyes are still trained on him, full of that weird intensity that he can never really rid himself of. Aang's stomach turns, his cheeks burning, and he hopes Zuko doesn't notice, but it really doesn't feel like he's having a _normal_ reaction to a crush anymore, and wait, the back of his throat is tingling –

Zuko's not _so_ good at playing prim perfect Fire Lord that Aang doesn't catch that something is _definitely_ going on. His suspicions are confirmed a moment later when he catches the suppressed laughter twitching in Zuko's cheeks, wrinkling the corner of his good eye.

He swallows down the final mouthful of ice cream, opening his mouth to ask, and it hits him all at once.

The cold had been masking what's possibly _the spiciest thing he has ever tasted._

"This is – you –" he starts, but his voice is too hoarse to continue and tears are gathering in his already heat-swarmed eyes and stinging nose and Zuko, the devious little spider rat _,_ is laughing – actually laughing, loud enough to attract the attention of a couple of nearby noblewomen.

Aang quickly conjures a cooling breeze around his ears, huffing, trying to get his tingling tongue to work. He _better_ not be going into the Avatar State, but it's hard to tell when his face is so numb.

He must look pretty bad, because Zuko takes pity on him, flagging down a waiter and procuring a cold glass of water, which Aang promptly downs in one go.

He's still laughing.

"How," Aang rasps, when he finally can, "is that ice cream!?"

"Shh," Zuko says, ushering Aang into a corner, a smug smirk fixed on his face, "palace manners. Even guests as famed and charming as you don't get a free pass."

Aang lowers his voice to an alarmed whisper. " _How is that ice cream!?_ "

"Your face," Zuko says, a hand firm on Aang's shoulder. Aang blinks hard through the betrayal. All an outsider observer would see is the young Fire Lord warmly checking on a distressed friend, but Aang feels more like he's being cornered by a playground bully. He complains as much to Zuko, elbowing him – etiquette be damned.

Zuko snickers, still having a hard time maintaining a straight face. "I didn't think you'd react so badly. All your friends can handle spicy food."

Aang tries, and fails, not to pout. "All my _friends_ didn't grow up on fruit pies and bison milk."

After another glass of water and three coconut cakes, he feels marginally better. With a clearer head, the situation feels somewhat less like cruel deception. It feels like whatever the cost had been, looking at Zuko's openly mirthful face was more than worth it. He gives another cough, suppressing a still-watery sniff. He'll get over it. Maybe.

"Since I'm an invited guest here, I have to be polite," he explains to Zuko, wiping at his eye. "But you _are_ going to pay for this in our next training session."

Zuko, standing smartly again, smiles and nudges him a precise millimetre, practically invisible. "Whatever, Aang. I'll just bring some fire flakes to defend myself." Then they're both quiet, content to watch the guests milling around. Zuko's eyes turn to search Aang's, and genuine concern flares momentarily in them. Aang feels the requisite self-consciousness, a different kind of heat, return.

"You're not actually hurt, right? I hope I haven't managed to alienate the Avatar as well as half the country's ministers." Zuko's face is reticent again, though it's more awkward than regal. Again, Aang gets the distinct feeling of skittering around an air temple playground. Of a breezy courtyard dressed up as a Fire Nation courtroom, of dirt-covered boys playing at distinguished dignitaries.

Despite his fumbles, Zuko certainly pulls it off better than he can, his head held high when he had entered this event, and gait carefully kind as he greeted the guests. Aang knows how hard-earned all of that is. None of it could come easy to someone used to living in exile, hated by half his father's cabinet. For all the jokes, he really is proud of Zuko – of everything he is, and everything Aang's sure he's going to be. He wonders what Kuzon would have made of him.

"Emotionally?" he says. "I'm pretty hurt."

Zuko barks another laugh, the colour high in his cheeks. Very not-dignitary-like. Aang feels immensely pleased to note it. "You're a real piece of work, Avatar."

"And you're a massive jerk, Your Royal Fieryness."


End file.
